


Beatrice

by NotPersephone



Series: Incipit vita nova [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Dante, Gratuitous Florence, Happy Ending, Season 3 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:44:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: As Hannibal's time in Florence draws to an end, he makes a choice. The right one. This is how the Italy arc should have ended.





	

Tucked away in an alley, nothing more than a door and a lantern between two buildings, Santa Margherita de’ Cerchi, is not easy to find. A place of peace just steps away from the uproar of Piazza del Duomo.

Away from the crowds and peering eyes. Bedelia wonders whether that is the reason Hannibal has chosen to visit it today. Nevertheless, any attempts of caution seem redundant now. The damage is already done and his hunters are closing in.

The place has a calming aura that she enjoys, perhaps Hannibal does too.

“Tradition says that Dante met his muse Beatrice here and fell in love with her,” he explains in a low voice as they stand at the front of the chapel.

“ _From that time forward love fully ruled my soul_ , he wrote after their first encounter.”

“But Dante lost her and had never expressed his feelings for her, am I correct?” Bedelia enquires.

“Yes, she died at a young age. Dante had never stopped loving her and she played a vital role in the Divine Comedy. She is the woman that guides him in Paradise. She had always remained his muse.”

“He loved the image he created, not the living woman,” Bedelia retorts sharply. The topic makes her reflect on their own relationship.

“A muse is only valued as a source of inspiration, not as an independent being,” she looks at Hannibal with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

She knows he idolises her but she does not know if she sees her as a real woman.

Sensing her unease, Hannibal abandons the subject and they make their way home in silence.

 

The following day Hannibal wakes up early, as per his usual routine, but lingers in bed. He registers the sun slowly rising over Florence and ponders the beauty of the city he will have to abandon soon.

The light moves to rest on a woman lying next to him and Hannibal’s eyes focus on her, the world outside suddenly forgotten. He reaches out and gently strokes her hair, relishing this moment of tenderness. It still feels like a novelty; it is something he has never experienced before their time together in Europe. All the details are carefully studied and placed in his memory palace.

But yesterday’s conversation echoes in his mind. An impression can never translate into reality. He is painfully aware of that truth. He spent a lifetime trying to bring his sister back, knowing he would never succeed. Yet he had no control over losing Mischa. This is different. And Bedelia is not his sister.

Hannibal considers his options. He knows the time is running out so he begins arrangements that very afternoon.

 

Jack Crawford arrives at the Palazzo two days later. Hannibal is not surprised; the confrontation has been anticipated but his whimsy takes over once more as he chooses to face him. He manages to escape, driven by determination and a clear purpose.

As he slowly makes his way down the streets of Florence, he is not thinking about his pursuer, only about Bedelia and her escape plan. Whether she has already put it into effect.

This time, he has everything to lose.

 

Hannibal has no recollection of arriving at the apartment and only comes to his senses when gentle hands guide him into the bathtub and cool water soothes his heated skin.

With a great effort he opens his eyes and observes Bedelia tending to his wounds. He keeps his gaze fixed on her, drinking her in, relieve and calmness flooding his heart.

He knows he made the right choice.

 

“I want to be able to draw these streets from memory.”

Hannibal gazes over the city, slowly pouring the images onto his pad.

“You won’t be coming back here for a very long time,” Bedelia says, joining him on the balcony.

“Memories of Florence will be all I have,” he watches as she gently removes the pencil and pad from his hands. She turns to move inside and he follows.

There is a small suitcase on the table and she places the pad inside.

“You packed lightly,” he remarks.

“I packed for you.”

“How convenient, as I have taken the liberty of preparing your bag,” he interjects and heads to the bedroom before Bedelia has a chance to respond.

He comes back with her bag, the same one she packed when Anthony Dimmond had threaten to expose them and she was considering departure.

He sets the luggage down on the table, next to his case. Bedelia stares at him in bewilderment, unable to make sense of this unexpected turn of events.

“There is a train to Venice that leaves in an hour. The ticket is inside. _Two tickets_ ,” he pauses, “we can stop there first and decide on our next move. If you choose to accompany me, that is.”

He looks at her expectantly.

“And what of Will Graham and your unresolved _issues_?” she asks harshly, disbelieving the sincerity of his proposal.

“History repeats itself. We have faced each other before, Will and I. You cannot replicate the same routine and expect different results. No number of wounds can change the outcome. The blood spilled back in Baltimore had one positive consequence. This time, if I meet him, it will not be present at the end. You, here with me.”

His marron eyes peer into her blue ones.

“You are correct in assuming that I will not be returning here. I am content with visiting the room devoted to Florence in my mind. But I cannot live with you being merely a memory. I do not want you to be my Beatrice.”

Hannibal breaks the gaze and looks away with an uncharacteristic shyness.

“I have already made arrangements for new documents and need a few days to complete them. Perhaps you would like to choose our next destination. Whatever you want to do. We make the rules.”

He meets her eyes once more, smiling.

Bedelia is lost for words for the first time in her life.

She closes the gap between them and leans in to kiss him. Her lips brush his, slowly and softly, as if she was savouring the words on his mouth. Hannibal does not rush the sensation, leaving her in control. She deepens the kiss and her hand finds the back of his head, keeping him close. Only then he wraps his arms around her and brings her body closer.

When they finally pause for breath, Hannibal smiles again.

“Was that a yes, Doctor?”

Bedelia smiles back.

“Yes.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't consider this an AU, just the characters moving forward the way they were always meant to but were never allowed.  
> Bedelia is the only true match for Hannibal and you can put that on my tomb.
> 
> I am always more than happy to discuss their relationship, just ask: http://bedeliainwonderland.tumblr.com/


End file.
